Sacred Groves

The druids they say,
had sacred groves,
rings of trees that gathered
the earth’s power

and held it,
like a cauldron,
boiling invisibly, waiting
for their priests

and lovers
to throw themselves in,
immerse themselves
in the sacred,

an ecstasy
of love and power,
basking in their gods’ love,
becoming stronger

and yet, at the mercy
of powers far beyond them.
Like lovers,
the surrendered

to the slow building crescendo
of lovemaking in the dark,
stars above them, watching
spirit and sensuousness rise

In an orgasm,
not of the body,
but more:
of the soul.

About the Poem

This is a case where I took a picture, and wrote a poem to it, instead of writing a poem and finding one of my photographs to illustrate it. The photograph was taken at the Southern Vermont Arts Center in Manchester, Vermont.

I have long had a fascination with druids and sacred groves. The interplay of line and light, space and spirituality sing to me. I believe there are sacred spaces in life – sanctuaries, mountaintops, and yes, perhaps groves of trees as well.

But they are not sacred just by being. They are sacred because they are places where we let God in, where we open ourselves to him, and let him fill us with his most essential spirit, love.

Where are your sacred spaces? What places sing to your soul? I would love to know.

Tom